


The Beginning of The End

by somuchforbaggles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, M/M, POV Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 04:19:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3754297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somuchforbaggles/pseuds/somuchforbaggles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts the night after Sam says yes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning of The End

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this [on tumblr](http://ghostran.tumblr.com/post/116500771698/it-starts-the-night-after-sam-says-yes-dean) a couple of hours ago, and thought even though it's a shortie, it's a goodie. I really like it, anyway. Hope you all do too!

It starts the night after Sam says yes.

Dean figures if his brother can give himself to the devil, then he can give himself to an angel. Not Michael, no. That ship has long sailed.

Michael doesn’t want him anymore, but Castiel does. Cas still wants him, and in any way he can get him. So Dean gives himself to Castiel, the rapidly falling angel. It doesn’t hurt. Cas doesn’t let it hurt. Cas makes him feel good. It’s a clumsy kind of good, but Dean takes good where he can. It lets him forget.

Forgetting is necessary for feelings. Then when Croats are chasing him, Dean won’t be thinking about _yes’s_ and _sorry’s_ and _it’s okay’s_ and _you’re my brother’s._ He’ll just run. And when he runs, he survives.

Most nights he dies in Cas’s bed. He never dies in his own. His bed is for women and nightmares.

He dies again and again with Castiel, letting memories be buried with him and letting mud harden around his carcass. It crusts over his eyes, and soon enough Dean can’t see if anyone’s still clean and soft. Cas always feels soft and hard, sounds it too, but sometimes when Cas talks to Dean, be it when he dares in public or when he whispers in private, he sounds like he’s clutching a spade. One night when he pulls out and asks, “Are there more ways to feel like this?” Dean realises why.

Someone, Dean doesn’t know who, introduces Cas to those more ways. It’s one more thing to worry about on a Croat-killing spree. Cas’s aim is off when he’s high, and his running is sloppy. However, his fucking also makes Dean see pinpricks of light through the mud.

Someone else introduces Cas to something else, and then another someone invites Cas to a ‘morale orgy’, and then someone neglects to tell Dean, and the mud is burned right off. Cas beckons to Dean with a slow finger and blinks at him with heavy lids, but Dean turns on his heel and loads and unloads his guns until anything else is foreign.

Cas comes to his bed that night, and has the gall to laugh when Dean pushes him out.

“Can you really hate me for having a cock in my ass? Then again, you hate yourself for the same thing, so you tell me, oh fearless leader.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” snaps Dean. “I hate myself for a hell of a lot more reasons than that.”

“So you hate me for other reasons?” Cas spreads out on the splintered floor, a bruised elbow propping his head up.

Dean sighs. “I don’t hate you,” he says, barely more than a mutter. _I hate what you’ve become,_ he doesn’t say. _I hate what I’ve turned you into._

A gummy grin breaks out on Cas’s face. He rolls over and makes snow angels on the floor, gleefully repeating, “Because you love me.”

Sam taught Cas how to make snow angels before he said yes. They’d grinned then, too. Dean had loved him then, too.

Dean pulls Cas up by the scruff of his shirt and drags him to his own cabin. He shoves him toward the bed, and Cas stumbles onto it.

“Gonna fuck me?” he asks, palming his ass. “If you fuck me like you fucked me up, we’ll have a grand time.”

As Dean unzips his fly, he adds another reason to hate himself.

 


End file.
